


Burning

by ailes_de_cire



Series: Flying into the Sun [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Curses, Dark, Death Eaters, Gen, Growing Up, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ailes_de_cire/pseuds/ailes_de_cire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part One - The moment that can't be taken back</p><p>He hit the ground running as quickly as he’s ever been able to, half mad from anger, pain and fright. He feels strangely distanced from himself, as if he is separated by three degrees from his body and watching a stranger operate it. It’s not something he’s ever experienced before and has no idea how he should feel about this, but at least he hasn’t been hit by an Unforgivable yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning

**Burn**

**_verb, burned or burnt, burn•ing, noun_ **

**_verb (used without object)_**

_1\. to undergo rapid combustion or consume fuel in such a way as to give off heat, gases, and, usually, light; be on fire: The fire burned in the grate._

He hit the ground running as quickly as he’s ever been able to, half mad from anger, pain and fright. He feels strangely distanced from himself, as if he is separated by three degrees from his body and watching a stranger operate it. It’s not something he’s ever experienced before and has no idea how he should feel about this, but at least he hasn’t been hit by an Unforgivable yet. 

_“AVADA KEDAVRA!”_

Of course, this fact may be rewritten at any moment, so it’s for the best that he’s still moving. Five cracks echo through the night behind him, following the first that heralded the restarting of his hunting by Death Eaters, and Harry frankly has no idea how he is going to escape this situation. 

He spares an insane moment feeling sorry that he’s the reason Bill and Fleur’s wedding was crashed by a squad of Death Eaters, legs pumping and icy cold hand grasping holly wand in a white knuckled grip, bodily spinning around and noting the neon green light rocketing off into the bricked alley wall far off to the right. 

“Expelliarmus! Impedimenta!” Shoot off in quick succession, and he sees that three wands have shot off into the sky, and remarkably four of the wizard’s movements in slow motion, captured in his hex. 

Sickly yellow and green lights, shot soundlessly are the answer to his moment’s distraction of running, he jumps forward into a roll, narrowly avoiding the spells aimed for his midsection and scraping his shoulder in the process. He awkwardly regains his feet and manages to get running again, taking up the habit of veering to the sides to avoid the bright colours that indicate his death by curse that he catches in his peripheral vision.

His pursuers are shouting insults at him – in between barrages of curses and harsh panting – and he is glad that as a ‘trouble’ student he’s had loads of practise in running away and is as in-shape now as he was during the prime days of Harry Hunting popularity. Actually, he’s much fitter now than he’s ever been, having much more food available and exercise in the form of Hogwarts’ elaborate maze of stairs and halls.

“Baby Potter, there’s no use running now! Ickle-baby just wants to cry! Hah, GET HIM! The Dark Lord wishes for a meeting!” 

The voice is one he will never forget – he hears it proclaiming his godfather’s death in his nightmares often enough – it is condescending, loud, and seeped in the madness of Azkaban. He wildly imagines that the voice has the echo of the dementor’s power – before everything turns red, and before he knows it he’s pointing his wand directly between Lestrange’s heavily lidded eyes.

This time, he tastes success.


End file.
